


Twenty Eight

by VandaQ



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Depression, Drama, Drinking, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, Smoking, licentious language, non-youtube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VandaQ/pseuds/VandaQ
Summary: Mark is mesmerised by him... He lets himself tangled in the sweet emotions that have not tried his heart for a long time. He knows that his fondness is not going to be responded. But he hopes and dreams that the green haired comedian will be his...





	1. Sixteen

**Author's Note:**

> A few words from the author here; firstly, thank you for reading this. It means the world to me, so thank you so much. Secondly, I accept any kind of remark or feedback, so please do let me know if you are enjoying this. I envision having a lot of fun writing this and I hope you will have a great time reading the story. And now, on a more serious note... 
> 
> ! IMPORTANT !
> 
> Although I am very much accustomed with the Markiplier and Jacksepcticeye fandom, please do not exepect the characters to be exactly the same as Mark & Jack, solely because it is an alternate universe.  
> If you don'w like SLOW build in a relationship, then perhaps this is not a fanfic for you. There will be a lot of insights from the characters and description, so dunno, judge for yourself.  
> Sorry if I get references wrong related to the other characters aside from Jack & Mark. I do watch Felix, Wade, Bob and Ken, but not as much as them two. 
> 
> Lastly, this fanfic does not want to encourage any kind of negativity towards Mark's and Jack's current romantic status. It is just for fun, laughs and FEELS <33 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

When you are 16 and you dream about your future you, most surely, imagine it in rosy colours with flags marking victory after victory in your road through adulthood. It’s always a case of ‘when’ and never a case of ‘if’; nobody takes time to picture their future and uses dark, depressing shades to paint it. Instead, you can see yourself smiling next to your future friends, lover or family and already feel the taste of joy and success tantalising your senses. And at that age nothing seems more real than those visions of yourself in the future, finding in yourself the determination and power to push yourself to fulfil that oh so well-crafted plan.

You think about love and having fun, living your life at its fullest, travelling the world with no obstacle in your way, generously throwing in qualities for your older, wiser self, portraying unimaginable experiences that will make out of your world your own, private paradise. No one imagines themselves being stuck between work and responsibilities, returning from a tiring day to a deserted apartment with no smiles to welcome you or the inviting smell of the food embracing your senses. You don’t see yourself sitting at a kitchen table, having no one to call or text to keep you company while you eat your cheap dinner. In your mind there is not a single trace of the picture of yourself not having a partner or lover; there’s always a clear picture of the person who you will share funny stories with and who will cuddle up next to you. Indeed, you don’t see yourself still navigating your own feelings and sexuality, unsure of the next step in your romantic life – if there is any.

And when he was 16, Mark had dreams as well, but he ended up in a dystopic universe where the beautiful scenery of his idyllic journey would be instead reversed, contortioned, moulded after the unfamiliar meanders of a path he is not sure will lead anywhere. He returns every day to his apartment, where silence is always reigning apart from the joyous barks of a Golden Retriever who he knows as Chica. He eats every day a ready meal that he picks on a whim and that he is sure that tastes the same like any other option offered on the shelves of a convenience store. He lazes around every night, watching pointless videos before falling asleep with Chica cuddling next to him. And he repeats the process the next day.

‘Pathetic’, he thinks sometimes, directing the venomous insult to no particular aspect of his life. It isn’t all bad or fade, though; he does have friends. They are a few and he can literally count them on his fingers, but they are loyal and the most genuine and generous people he has ever met in his life. He does have friends both in the not yet forgotten Cincinnati and in the adventurous, never asleep Los Angeles, that became his new home. He grew up with them, in one way or another. He lost friends before as well; either because of the distance, because of the mark of the time left on their hearts or to the hands of a far crueller power than time or distance. He does enjoy things and finds passion in a few activities. He loves rock climbing and playing games and going to stand-up comedy shows with his pals and… A few more things; however, all of this kind of entertainment is guaranteed only during his weekends.

He does enjoy his job and cannot complain about its benefits or the sentiment of fulfilment it can bring to him. He remembers the first year in that world and he sees himself at that point like a child brought for the first time in an amusement park. He works as a PR Executive for a charity dealing with and advocating for the welfare of the animals and his job, to be sincere, is like the tricks of a magician at a birthday party for a four years old. When you are that four years old, every movement and word of the act can send shivers down your spine and make you jump with genuine excitement. However, when you are the older brother of the four years old, you can spot the cards hidden in the sleeves, the mirrors in the boxes and you can smell the alcohol on the clothes of the magician; you cannot be entranced anymore. You might applaud lazily a particularly successful trick, but that doesn’t mean you buy the whole story behind it. When he was an intern he thought he could easily make people believe in his cause, in a bigger cause than him and he was charmed by the possibility of a ‘behind the scenes’ peek. But now… Now he knows that not all the things are as clear as the expensive crystal his clients have their lemonade water from. He knows publicity and a public imagine doesn’t need only to be constructed, but also hidden at times. And although, somewhere in his heart he felt proud with his work, he could not be mesmerised anymore by the game of deceit of the magician.

And today was one of those days that were particularly stressful and inconvenient, like a relative you don’t like but whom you cannot refuse the entrance in your house or deny the dinner. He had to attend three meetings with clients and other executives, watching them sip from the perfectly polished, porcelain cups their coffee and try to smile through the whole masquerade of what was supposed to be a new communications campaign. On top of that, the scorching weather of LA proved to be unforgiving and the red head was not happy to be stuck in his car for one hour on his way back home in a traffic jam. In the end, he got home when the veils of the night were already cosily settling in, ready to make forgotten the light of the day and give a generous start to the roar of the parties. He was welcomed warmly by a few barks, before the large dog could jump all over him, in a frenzy of fur and joy.

“Easy, Chica, easy,” he talked through short laughs, picking himself up and cupping the dog’s head in his big palms. “Clever girl, I’m so happy to see you,” he murmured, while gently hugging the animal who did not have enough patience and escaped swiftly, running back and forth from him to the kitchen. “I know, I know… You are a hungry puppy,” he gingerly spoke to the Golden Retriever while walking towards the kitchen. The prospect of food made Chica simply sit quietly before her bowl, head tilted slightly to the side. After making a silly face to the unknowing animal and noticing the tail that wiggled uncontrollably, the red haired hurried to fetch Chica’s dinner. Soon enough, she was munching on her granules, while he was chewing on whatever he picked on his road home, not sure if he could taste mushrooms or chicken.

They ate in silence, like in a well-established ritual, while the only faint sounds disturbing the veil of quietness was Mark’s light taps on his phone, while he went mindlessly through notifications and a few news. His mind wandered far from who and what they wore for the latest movie premiere, though. He caught himself lately thinking about… Himself. About how selfish he felt every time the idea that so many other people would practically sell their soul just to get to get the comfort of his life. And he also thought about his decisions, about his mom and Cincinnati and what he left behind and what he found in his journey. He pondered on the particular musing that maybe with a few steps in a different direction, with a few gushes of wind to point him towards another road he would not be here. And he could not painfully wonder how it would have all been… To not leave Jess behind and instead enjoy a settled life in a cosy, little home in the heart of Cincinnati, perhaps married, perhaps less alone and confused. He quietly pictured himself not struggling with discovering his interest in men and muting away all the nights of experimental love between the sheets with men he could not bother to remember the faces of, let alone the unfamiliar names. He gave a part of his debating thoughts to all the people he no longer knew nothing about or to the few names that he could not erase from the back of his mind. And with the gutting feeling that his choices mattered, he felt stuck at an invisible intersection he was not sure he wanted to get past by…

The fork made a clashing sound against the plate and with drowsy eyes, he looked disheartened at the now empty dish. Chica was no longer keeping him company and instead moved her interest towards lazily playing with one of her bouncy toys. He grabbed the plate feeling old and tired all of the sudden and dropped it in the dish washer, before turning around to his empty fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. A few moments later he was already in the shower, washing away all the worries for tomorrow and the greasy remains of his regrets. Then he went on with his monotonous tradition of climbing into his bed with his laptop, while Chica circled a few times the comfortable mattress and decided on a spot that for some reason was promising of a night of good sleep. And just before he was about to start his daily adventures through the latest, most useless videos on the internet, he felt a buzz against his thigh and he saw the screen of his phone lightning up with a notification. When he opened the cryptic message, there was only a link to a video intituled: ‘About cunts and life’ followed by the ecstatic encouragement that read: ‘Check this out!’. And why not, he thought; if it was a waste of time, well… Wasn’t his every weekday night a boring waste of time?

He quickly searched for the video on his laptop, while at the corner of his eyes he caught Chica yawning and getting ready for her rest. As the video opened, he heard the claps of a full bar of people, accompanied by whistles and voices haphazardly raising to the ceiling. “Now, I’ve met lots of cunts in my life, but I swear life is the biggest cunt,” a voice quieted slightly the room, while a silhouette appeared on the stage; the words of the man seemed heavily laced with what sounded like a Scottish accent to him. “I’ll let you know later why. Welcome back to this top quality show,’ a small pause to mark an arrogant pose and a wink towards the audience. ‘Unfortunately, you’ve paid for your drinks, so you are stuck in here for a while, depending on how quickly you can down a pint.” A few sporadic laughs were heard in the crowd, before the man continued to gesture energetically. “On top of that, you are kind of forced to laugh, otherwise your date will think you have no sense of humour. Or, you know, to make you feel better for the thought that you actually paid for this shit.” A smile contoured the face of the man and Mark could finally distinguish some features.

The first thing to notice was the bright green hair, then the contagious grin, with every contour of the stranger’s face a pestering feeling nagging the red haired more and more. He could not pinpoint the sensation that was sinking deeper and deeper in his mind, but he decided to continue to watch, intrigued by the comedian. “I said earlier that life is a cunt. Now the mysterious explanation is actually very simple. Life is the ultimate cunt because you’ve fucked it so many times.” A wave of laughter fell upon the bar while the green haired gestured frantically to say that he speaks the truth. “Think about it; you are late? Fuck this life! Your cunt face husband left you? Fuck this shitty life! You get stuck in traffic. What do you say? Fuck my life!” Mark felt his own chest filling with laughter and murmuring in the same time as the green haired comedian the catchy phrase. “And then you wonder why life is so fucked up…” Mark chuckled again, shaking his head slightly, feeling the corners of his mouth being stubbornly plastered in the shape of a smile.

Halfway through the show, Mark had to stop to message Wade back with a simple: “This is hilarious as fuck” to which he received quickly enough a winking emoji. When the comedian left the stage and wished everyone a better night than during his show, Mark caught himself thinking this guy would be phenomenal to be witnessed in a live show. A few taps and giggles away and he was in a video call with both Bob and Wade, sharing thoughts about the green haired comedian.

“I can’t believe this guy got so far,” Bob chimed as some point during their call, making Mark furrow his eyebrows in curiosity. His friends were quick on picking up on his confusion and, with a shared laugh, they looked again at Mark with utter surprise painted across their features. “You gotta be kidding me… You didn’t recognise him?”

“Who? The comedian?” Mark asked, yet again unknown to the secret stupor of his best friends. “No, who is he? Did we see him before in a show?”

“No… Mark, he’s Sean McLoughlin. You are so helpless. I’m pretty sure that Chica takes care of you and not the other way,” Wade quickly remarked, chuckles following his words.

“Well… That’s in part true, but honestly, who’s the guy?”


	2. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, even in the darkest of the days, there is a ray of hope to make you pick yourself up and chase that meek light on to better days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ever so much for your support on this work, guys. You are absolutely fantastic and the reception from you is sincerely surprising. :) Thank you a lot. Again, don't hesitate to leave your feedback/opinions and I hope you enjoy the second chapter. 
> 
> P.S.: The chapter will be uploaded most surely weekly, unless I feel particularly inspired during the week and I have the time to write them. <3

Eighteen is the age when you make the first unsure, insecure steps through adulthood, trying to not step in puddles in your rainy days and breathe in the scent of freedom a new day and a new experience gives you. It is the time when start to rely on your cooking skills, probably move out of your parents’ house and leave behind a small town that you will later remember fondly of. At eighteen, your worries revolve around the new friends you make, perhaps your first job, what is the best way to party and how to fit in the kaleidoscope the wide world is. You learn to love the feeling of accomplishment after an exam or a 10 minutes break in your shift, how to feed on coffee and energy drinks and how to fuck up your schedule with oh so many nights spent around at your friends’ houses. Then is also when you discover the sad feeling of not having a warm meal to wait you when you get home or the how to not go crazy while sharing a room with another person you rarely speak with aside from the occasional ‘did you use my ketchup?’.

At eighteen Jack found himself stranded on a continent that he did not find familiar in any way possible, thinking across the ocean to his family and the small cabin in the woods he left behind for a far more promising land. When he waved back for the last time to his family, his heart felt light with the sensation of freedom that gave him wings and painted dreamy expressions on his face. But now his heart was heavy like a weight made out of lead, making him slow down, binding him to the stable, unmoving earth, forced to follow a path he was not sure anymore would bring him satisfaction or happiness. His college years were nothing of what the crowds expect; he did not lounge around other peoples’ houses nor had a massive group of friends to party with every night. In fact, if he ever drank it would be after work and he would do that alone, in his room, where his roommate rarely showed up. He does remember how, at first, no one could understand his accent; so he changed it… He threw away all the hushes and inflections in his sweet, native accent and adopted a quiet, sustained and perfectly American voice to talk for him.

In the first weeks of his stay in America he let his heart believe this new adventure, this new land full of dreams and possibilities would welcome him wholeheartedly, so he called himself Sean. At first, he did not mind people confusing his name for ‘Shawn’ as he was sure they would learn… They would learn to accept it and to accept him; but, with time, he realised that was not going to change and few were the people who actually thought that he was lonely and that this ‘Shawn’ masquerade darkened his heart with sadness. He worked in retail, at a game shop, but suddenly his passion for video games and their mesmerising world lost its charm as well, when he had to deal with rude teens that would contradict him on his knowledge. It wasn’t long until his fiery character resurfaced again, making him scream to a jock that was trying to explain why Uncharted 3 is far better than the second one.

He lost his temper, he lost his job, he lost his hope that he could be part of that strange world. He started to hate the faces around him, feeling judged for his every movement, always provoked and ridiculed if he ever had a can of beer, asked oh so many times how did he eat his potatoes that day… He grew tired with the shenanigans of that strange world. He saw all of his young dreams crushing, falling to the ground with a loud thump and leaving him with broken pieces of the person he was before. If when he was in Ireland he could fill a room with his voice and paint smiles on people’s faces, in Cincinnati he became so quiet that he would often times passed unnoticed by everyone.

It wasn’t all sorrow and bad memories, though, and he recalls dearly working in a pet shop and spending his day caring to animals and finally acting like himself without feeling the big eyes of the dogs will ever reply with sarcastic comments and sardonically mean laughs. He also recalls his lessons about improvisation, a lecture he chose as an optional, only because he was fascinated with theatre and acting. However, what he studied in college was hotel management. He felt his life slipping away and his attention never on the subject when he was in those classes. He chose the course because he was sure that it was an economically wise choice and offered the possibility of immediate employment after graduation. Little he knew about his future steps through life…

He also had Signe, his first and best friend in those times; the girl who introduced him to drinking rum and smoking and putting his thoughts on paper. When he thinks back at how they met, he cannot help but let an amused smile decorate his features. It was probably the second week of college and as he returned from the game shop to his dorm, he could hear from the bottom of the hallway powerful thuds on a door and an angry voice yelling, accompanied by replies with “Shut the fuck up, psycho!”. Surprise was quick to wash over his features as he realised the knocks were on the door of his room while the name that was brought up in the girl’s screams was Chad, his roommate.

“You fucking coward! Get the fuck out and deny everything, cunt!” As he approached, the girl turned furiously to him and, with red eyes – probably from crying -, she stared angrily at him. “What are you staring at, weirdo?” Jack almost snapped and replied on the same tone, but, instead, he quietly pointed at the door behind her and gently said that was his room. “Oh, shit! Sorry!”, the girl was quick to follow, Jack seeing quickly how her cheeks turned red. A few cans of beer later, Jack knew everything about Chad, Signe’s now ex-boyfriend who she has been with for 3 years and whom she ditched a college in Washington DC for, only for her to find that Chad had already slept with some girl at some party. And, to Chad’s nightmare, she became Jack’s best friends, always pushing him to get out of his room and meet other people, guiding him to experience and live the adventure life was.

Somehow, his memories from those three years seemed to merge with one another and he isn’t sure what he did on a daily basis, what his course was about or how he got through all of his dark times. His mind quieted down the memories from his college and as he left America – for good -, he promised himself to never do something that would make him feel miserable ever again. However, there is a particular episode that stuck with him for some reason; it obsessed him over the autumn of his second year and haunts his thoughts even now. It was the beginning of the second year and after a summer spent in Ireland with Signe and his family, he felt again capable to take on the obstacles that were awaiting him over the Atlantic. Signe dragged him with her to one of the house parties that she always was the heart of and promised him they would have a good time together that year; he was not entirely sure how she would be able to erase all his worries, boredom and negativity, but he was prepared to give Cincinnati yet another chance. As they mingled through all the other students around the house, he found himself in the kitchen, lazily sipping from a can of beer. Slowly, the sounds faded around him until he heard a few distant sobs coming from the back yard.

He did not mean to intrude on anyone, but he could not help his childish curiosity and with quiet steps he approached the open back door, only to witness a girl cupping her face and a relatively short guy talking to her in a low voice, while trying to comfort her – despite tears coursing freely on his cheeks and his hands trembling.

“I’m sorry, Jesse… It’s going to be alright, baby girl, I promise. We can still see each other once a month or so and… And after I save some money, you can move in with me.”

“I don’t know, Mark, Los Angeles is… Big and far away and you will forget about me…”

“No, God, no, Jesse! I love you, baby girl, please don’t say that… It will be… Fine.”

“I need to think about it.”

“Alright… Alright, think about it, that’s good. But please promise me you won’t think that I will forget you or… Just… Give us a chance, yes?”

“I’ll try. Get home safely, Mark…”

The brunet offered to drive her home, but she refused and, before he knew, Jack was halfway through the garden, idly staring at the brunet. When the stranger turned around, surprise graced features before a sad smile tugged at the corner of his lips and he rushed to dry his tears off.

“Oh, boy, sorry… I didn’t know there was someone here. Do I know you?” Gentle care and kindness could be seen in the dark, tearful eyes and for the first time, Jack felt like he could be who he ever wanted to be. He shook his head and, without even realising, his mind went back to his native, Irish accent as he replied:

“No, sorry, did not mean to intrude, I thought someone was in trouble. Are you alright?” The question, Jack felt, was useless. Obviously, the brunet was not alright and after witnessing that scene he felt intimately part of that guy’s life, although he never met him in person. He heard about Mark Fischbach around the campus; he was one of those guys that no matter what they do, they excel in anything they have their attention on or put their efforts in. He was a model student, rumours saying that his Economics teacher even had a crush on him, he was an ace on the field and a true friend to everyone who needed help; he was resourceful, caring and kind and all the good qualities somone can think of in a perfect person. There were stories about him having a tumultuous past or tales about he was always popular and had affairs with all the girls in his school; on the other side, people whispered that he was like an angel and it was easy to see why the girls sighed over him or that he never cheated on anyone and he was to marry his girlfriend or they were engaged already? Not only did he have the profile of a perfect college student, but also the vague, mysterious vibe of a movie star and now, talking to him, Jack felt that for once… Only for one day, he would love to spend his day with this guy, with the brunet that even made him feel like himself and made him feel relaxed, like no worry in the world could touch him.

When the brunet replied, he had already composed himself and with a short nod, he started in a low, velvety voice that absolutely mesmerised the Irishman.

“Yes, thank you. Sorry, what is your name?”

“Jack,” he replied, not even thinking too long; his real name was Sean, but his family and everyone back in Ireland called him Jack.

“Jack, nice to meet you. Sorry we had to meet in this particular… Setting,” the brunet hushed again, accompanying his kind words with a smile and a small chuckle. “Anyhow, Jack, I think your girlfriend is looking for you,” Mark pointed behind him, where Signe, slightly tipsy, was waving towards them and yelling Jack’s name, while the Irishman felt compelled, for some reason, to correct the brunet and tell him she is not his girlfriend. As she got there, with a laugh, she leaned on Jack and looked up and down the brunet.

“Mark, ain’t it?” she made, as straightforward as ever, while patting him on the shoulder. “Your gorgeous man, it’s so bad you’re taken,” he went on to a flirtatious tone, while Jack intervened and dragged slowly Signe off of Mark.

“Sorry… Ugh… She’s very straightforward and alcohol is only worsening her condition.” Utter surprise was thrown over Jack’s features as the brunet laughed at his words. It was the first time since he’s been in America and he heard someone laugh again at his jokes and inputs; it was so refreshing. He did not dare to say another word to the brunet while he departed, with the same kind allure over him, while apologising for whatever he felt like he needed to say sorry for. Jack caught himself looking after the brunet as he disappeared into the house again, a sensation of loss and coldness taking over his body.

“Would ya shag him?” Signe’s voice broke off the spell he fell into and, with an exasperated expression, he muttered simply it was time for them to get home.

Over the next few weeks, he found himself looking secretly through the faces in the campus for brunet hair and glasses and he intently listened to conversation in his lunch break, with the hope he would get a small clue about who the mysterious brunet actually was. He left himself dragged by Signe to various parties and tried to make friends with Mark’s two infamous best friends, Wade Barnes and Bob Muyskens. His attempts were not met by success and, by the time winter came along, his curiosity faded away, yet again captured in the maze that his college life was. He wished Mark well in his life and left as a note in his journal that he would love to meet the brunet again after years; only to see him for a few minutes while crossing the street. And he also put as a thought and reminder in his trusty diary that he would always try to be a better person and to better himself in life, to find something that could make out of him that person that everyone loves to be with and feels relaxed around, just like Mark made he feel that cold autumn night.


	3. Twenty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past can often times be a scary place for everyone; it just takes a small push and a smile to face it and possibly make a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot thank you enough for the ongoing support on this work, guys. You are amazing. Thank you for the read, kudos and feedback. I hope you enjoy this chapter and just a hint: these two dorks finally get to meet each other again. :) 
> 
>  
> 
> P.S.: Pardon the dialog parts; it is, obviously, not my strongest point - especially when there are so many characters to handle. If you have tips on it, let me know. :)

In his lonely days when he doesn’t work, has to worry about life, in general, and when he doesn’t try to forget about his problems while keeping company to his friends through bars, Mark likes to think about his past. Some people are not keen on reflecting on old pictures, do not want to see again all the wrong turns in their lives and remember all the bumps in their road; but the red haired feels a sense of contentment and growth in the process. He can look over all his decisions and find the drive behind them and how it changed the direction his steps took him into. What he rarely thinks about is his last year of college, about the 21st year of his life, simply because the pain and memories resurface with such an impact on him, it is hard to see any motivations or consequences. Admittedly, he thought a few times to share these thoughts with someone, perhaps a professional that could offer an objective, distant view or perspective on his biggest fears and thoughts of failure. And if he took a few minutes to fight the demons in his soul and the voices in his mind whispering him about all the possible outcomes of the life-changing choices he made, he would probably notice all his insecurities and worries actually originate there.

He would find that from the moment he found out about his internship in Los Angeles, the pride on his mom’s face and the encouragements from his older brother, his heart was already given away to a different world to the one he knew in Cincinnati. But then the giddy sensation tickling his senses at the thought of a new city and the excitement of independency faded away into a typhoon of new found insecurities, worries and broken promises. He felt his heart heavy and saddened every time he thought about how he left his mom back home, while she smiled until the last moment, with all her strength trying to keep at bay her tears. He felt like a liar and a cheater when he talked to Jesse for the first time about his internship and where he did it, seeing her silhouette disappearing around the curb, while he could still feel the cold feeling of losing her slowly. He gets angry at his old self that ignored his best friends for days only because they showed concern for him, thinking that he was oh so mature and he knew how to handle life…

That is why he doesn’t think about his last year in college… Because he would discover that the phantoms from those years that left a scar upon his heart still haunt him to this day. But when Wade and Bob forced him to go back to the realm his college years was, he felt compelled to jump into the ocean of emotions those years meant for him. He remembered about his matches and how he was greeted every day at school by faces that looked up at him with friendly, warm smiles, he remembered about the long nights spent with his friends playing video games and the intimate moments he dearly shared with Jesse. And as he learnt the green haired comedian was actually a student in the same year as them, he found through the labyrinth of his memories a cold night of autumn. He could hear a voice in which a sweet, hushed Irish accent still lingered and see blue eyes sparkling with untold curiosity. A forgotten name resonated within him and slowly an avalanche of feelings inundated him and he was left in his room, alone and lonely – aside from the presence of a peacefully sleeping dog. He suddenly stumbled upon fragments of conversations from when Bob and Wade were telling him this foreign kid was trying to befriend them and other sad, whispered words from Jesse telling him she could not afford her heart to go through the experience of seeing him leaving her behind. And despite all of his pleas for everyone to shut up for a second, for him to find a space where silence was reigning, the Universe did not listen and threw at him even more noise.

And by the end of the third year of college, Mark’s name faded away from everyone’s lips; and not only because everyone was busy with the graduation… He gave up on the football team, stopped smiling at everyone, rarely held a helpful hand to those in need and he learnt to quietly distance himself from everyone. So you would very well understand why now, while cosily tucked in a red flannel shirt, he felt more than terrified to meet a part of his past he was not sure he was prepared to face again. As Felix wrapped up his show and he finished his drink, the crowd in the bar engulfed the sounds and worries in his mind and with Ryan and Matt leading the way to the back of the stage, he gingerly felt an infirm part of his old confidence was back.

That was until he shook Felix’s hand and greeted comically Ken and they proceeded to their old banter. He felt his pulse dropping and he was sure he looked pale and sick; it’s not easy for everyone to face a truth that they are afraid of even approaching or visiting a side of themselves they thought lost on the roads of their lives. And Mark did, undoubtedly, no exception.

“Come on, we gotta meet Jack at Rave in like… 15 minutes,” Felix chimed in, urging everyone with his contagious smile towards the exit of the bar. As they drove in silence in separate cars, he thought yet again how did he get in this position. It could be easily traced back at the moment he introduced Matt and Ryan to Wade and Bob and that time Felix tagged along while they went out a summer night. Then Ken just appeared out of nowhere and him and Felix became inseparable. But yes, there is a logic behind why he was about to meet a green haired comedian and he knew that with Felix being a stand-up comedian as well, Wade and Bob’s persuasive characters and Ken’s ecstatic way of being, it was only a matter of time until he would see the face of one the shadows that followed him all these years.

Before he knew, the car stopped and he was quickly urged out of it by Ryan and the whatever little air remained in his lungs was forcibly kicked out of his lungs as he saw a man standing in front of the bar and waving towards them. Felix and Ken were the first ones to jump in with the greetings and pats on the back or hugs were shared, while Matt and Ryan simply introduced themselves and shared a few laughs with their new discovered companion. And when Mark saw himself standing affront the stunning green haired the lanky, unknown student from his year became, he could not help but let out a nervous chuckle.

“Oh, man, this is so weird…,” he mumbled under his breath and he heard a soft chuckle from the comedian to his words.

“You tell me… You were far more handsome back in college.” At the green haired’ words, Mark made a theatrically hurt expression and look around for some support.

“Don’t look at me, I barely know how you were back in college,” Ken accompanied him with a laugh, while Ryan had to make heard his input in favour of the comedian’s words.

“Well, that’s not the same to be told about you,” he made gently, continuing, “Jack…” He plunged forward with a sense of comfort he denied himself a long time in a short, heartfelt hug and a smile blossomed on his lips. For a second he felt the cold of the autumn night around him again and he could see in the blue eyes the same amount of confidence and curiosity as he did in the genuine blue crystals of the foreign student when he was only 20.

“So how exactly was Mark in college, Jack?” Felix deviously asked all of the sudden, draping an arm around Jack’s shoulder and winking at the red haired, while taking the green haired away and leading them all into the bar.

“Needless to say, he probably made the romance dreams of all the girls in the campus,” Jack quickly followed, earning a few whistles from the group, prompting the red haired to roll his eyes. Truth to be told, back then he only had eyes for his girlfriend and was completely unaware of the luscious glances he received, despite Bob and Wade’s constant remarks about it. As they entered the bar and chose a table, he somehow found himself sitting next to the Irishman and arguing on the point he was not really a… “Catch” back then.

“Lies! Even Signe would have a private “studying” session with you,” Jack obnoxiously continued, earning some laughs from the men and making Mark want to hide his face.

“And we never knew you were such a big deal, Markimoo,” Matt poked at him, while Ken quickly asked everyone their preferred drink.

“What happened to you on the way to LA?” Ryan followed, while Mark just put on a sassy expression and crossed his arms at his chest.

“It’s called maturing, Ryan,” the red haired fought back, while Felix puffed in amusement and earning a very instigating ‘oooh’ from Jack.

“Really? You are still playing video games that are as old as the internet,” the Swede quickly retorted, while Mark was prompt to follow with:

“Hey! Those games are the best. Old video games are the shit.”

“That’s right, Swedish boy,” the green haired backed him up and somehow their talk veered in the direction of how some of the earliest games are still the best. Then the subjects of their discussion moved in all kind of directions, from arguments on what is the best place to hang out in Los Angeles, promises to take the still uninitiated green haired all over the city and their most embarrassing moments. By the end of their excursion through various memories and contradictory talks, it was way past midnight and the amount of alcohol in some of them would make even the heavy drinkers reckless. Out of the whole bunch, only Mark was completely sober, his inability of digesting alcohol making out of him the preferred driver.

The still warm air of the – almost – morning of the city hit all of them as they loudly left the bar and they decided who would take the lift back home from their favourite redhead with a singing contest – out of everything. After a few attempts from everyone that either ended in laughs or yells of encouragement from the passers-by, Felix took the lead and grabbed Ken and announced somehow proudly that he was an independent man and he was going to get a taxi. When the two finally got into the car, followed by screamed goodbyes by the rest of the group, it was already decided Mark was stuck with two very drunk Matt and Ryan that were holding onto each other for balance and a tipsy Irishman waiting quietly for him to lead all of them to the car.

“Alright, now, can you two walk?” Mark’s query was replied with overly-confident words from Ryan and Matt, while the brown haired almost tripped over his own foot. “That means no,” the red haired followed with a laugh, grabbing both of the men and trying to make his way to the car. With a few struggles and hysterical laughs, he managed to safely place them in his car and leave them to their own devices, while making sure the comedian was tagging along.

The road back to Ryan and Matt’s house didn’t lack the typical laughs and loudness Mark was already used to, while a Disney song challenge was somehow brought up and proudly honoured by the three contestants. But as the three singers got around the Tangled period, Matt and Ryan were almost passing out in the back seats of the car, leaving a very much quiet atmosphere for the rest of the road. Mark took a quick look towards the green haired, noticing the features of the man being painted with tiredness and in fear of him having a car full of men sleeping, he silently cleared his throat and stopped in front of a red light.

“Are you enjoying LA?” It was a petty, almost dumb excuse for Mark to start a conversation with the green haired, but – in his defence – his brain would usually go for the ‘dumb and silly’, before finding a more viable option.

“Yeah, I really do. I think I kind of needed this change of pace. I am way too used to the British and Irish quiet cities,” the comedian replied, Mark being able to distinguish an excited smile at his peripheral vision as he hit the gas again and resumed their trip.

“That’s good. Los Angeles can be really tiring, though. I’ve lived in here for… A few good years now and I sometimes miss the quietness of Cincinnati, you know.” Mark realised they were less than 5 minutes away from Ryan and Matt’s place, so he just hurried to finish the journey and get his friends finally in their beds.

“I guess I know what you mean. I mean… Not about Cincinnati, but about Ireland. It’s a completely different feeling from what I’m experiencing in here and what I would usually do when in there.” The red haired could not help but notice once again the strong Irish accent, now seemingly heightened by the alcohol. As he stopped the car, he quickly let Jack know he will be back shortly and quickly proceeded to getting the two drunk men out of his car.

“We finally home?” Ryan muttered quietly while trying to sober up for a second and at Mark’s affirmative response, he grabbed Ryan as well and made their way together to their house. They departed with hugs and cheesy words and Mark waited for them to get safely inside before dashing back to the car.

“Right, now let’s get you home safely. Where do you live?” Mark asked upon his return, the comedian giving him his full address. After a few searches on his GPS, Mark started to drive again, before he heard a tired voice to his right:

“Thank you for the lift. I owe you one.”

“No biggie,” the red haired made with a quick smile, continuing then while changing lanes: “But sure, you owe me a coffee, sometime.” Before the green haired could reply, he added quickly: “If that’s alright with you, of course.” A short chuckle from the comedian and a smile from Mark later and Jack was nodding affirmatively.

“Sure, just tell me when. Oh…” Mark could see Jack shuffling around and he let the man slide a calling card in the breast pocket from his shirt. “You can find my work number in there, I’ll give you the personal one another time. Maybe when you’re not driving and we’re not in danger of causing a car accident.” Mark offered a soulful, earnest chuckle to Jack’s words, nodding slightly and agreeing with the comedian.

“I’m pretty confident in my driving skills, but sure,” he shortly replied, stopping again at a red light and feeling blue eyes on him. He turned his head inquisitively and before he could even ask what was with the stare or make a smart ass comment about it, the Irishman shook his head faintly and huffed to himself.

“Sorry, I just… Feel good when people laugh at my jokes.”

“Well, if that’s not arrogant,” Mark joked and earned a snicker from the green haired. “But seriously, this is your job, after all – making people laugh. So I don’t know why…” Mark was stopped quickly by a denying gesture made by the comedian with his hand and another almost insecure chuckle followed it.

“No… It’s not really that. It’s just… I hear people laughing at my jokes every day, but I have this feeling that not all of the reactions are real, you know? But there’s always a person that really seems to enjoy themselves and that… Makes me happy.” Mark had to take a glance at the cheesy, soppy green haired next to him and to see the usually confident looking man in a position of vulnerability – something Mark was sure was caused by the alcohol intake.

“How do you know I’m not laughing just to make you feel good?” he snarly replied, a provocative grin gracing his features.

“Oh! Is that the case?”

“Maybe,” the red haired continued the charade, trying to read the comedian’s next gesture. He was surprised to find a quiet Irishman looking straight at him and then averting his eyes when the red haired tried to meet them.

“Trust me, I would know.” In those words, a certain power and maturity was resonating and Mark could see that behind them there was a hint of mystery – a part he could not fully access yet or that the green haired protected from him for now.

“Well, then…,” the red haired mumbled, while parking his car. “I think this is your place, yes?” As if Jack snapped out of a trance or just swam to the surface out of his thoughts again, he looked a few times around and with his usually energetic smile, he agreed.

“Thanks again. I’ll be fine from here.” A short pause after the comedian’s words was left to hang in the air and after removing his seat belt, the green haired quickly leaned in for a short hug before opening the door of the car. “I’ll see you soon. Call me.” A short wave later and a smile thrown over the shoulder and Mark was yet again alone in his car, watching Jack disappear into a building. In the air around him the scent of alcohol and aftershave still persisted and Mark thought for a second that, perhaps, sometimes facing your past could be pleasant; not every time, but certainly some aspects of it could be fruitful.


	4. Twenty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is hard to feel at home everywhere or to feel at peace with yourself; and Jack has to learn those lessons the hard way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys... You are absolutely amazing. Thank you ever so much for all your support and feedback on the story. I genuinely feel indebted to you and I am so humbled by the fact you actually like this. I appreciate all your comments and just know I will indeed reply to each of you; if you have questions, feedback or just a few words to tell me, please address them. 
> 
> Lastly, thank you again and I hope you will enjoy this chapter. :)

When we are young we are told countless times to not take things for granted, to value the opportunities are given and live every experience with the humble knowing that some other people will never have the chance to do it. You are told that you never know how good things are until you lose them; and Jack learnt it oh so well. When he felt the cold breeze of Ireland against his cheeks and heard the well-known accent resonating around him, he discovered a new found, genuine and deep appreciation for his natal country and town. The suffocating experience of America brought within him a part he did not even knew; a part that enjoyed the slow rhythm of life and the quiet atmosphere of known places, of streets he walked for so many years but seemed all of the sudden charming, full of an unknown, inviting mystery. So he took it slow, adapted again to himself and his ways of being, indulged by his family and friends that did not pressure him into running after a job. He took a year to contemplate on who he was and, one day, while reading through some cryptic inscriptions in his diary, he saw a simple note to his future self. A note that advised him to always look for the purest pleasure that he had and to revolve his life around it. 

And what he loved the most, for sure, was making people smile, changing the world, leaving a mark in the history – even if only the history of a drinker in a bar. So he started to write down all of his insights and comical thoughts and, soon enough, he was performing on the improvised scene of a pub in his town taking his natal name as a stage name: Sean. The crowd, the simple energy that he could give to people, the sound of his own voice echoing through the whole place – they all had him coming for more. His energetic and unpredictable self mesmerised the eyes watching him every night – and, at some point, he found himself signing contracts with different entertaining companies. He found himself taking a nap between London and Birmingham on the plane, sipping insipid coffee from IKEA shops and eating croissants from Costa, all over the UK. 

His style was hardly unique, but his tone, his gestures, his understanding of comic – all of them made him soar through the skies of recognition, higher and higher, dodging any obstacle and even crossing oceans. When he was back in America for his first tour there, he felt like he owned the place. And with the thought that his voice could roar louder than any other in the world, he started to feel like he owned any place that he visited. At the same time, though, his voice, his ego and his pride were easy to see would bring him his downfall as well. At 22 Jack was just a young man with a simple dream – of leaving a memory upon the minds of those who watched him. At 24, though, Jack was a man who just looked for bigger… Bigger crowds, bigger profits, bigger parties, bigger groups of friends, bigger experiences. He slowly distanced himself from all he cared about; his family, his one true friend, Signe, his country, his originality. He slowly started to lose popularity and the once so admired Irish comic, became almost a sarcastic, vile insult for one that does not know when to shut up or how to make a crowd laugh anymore. He became a joke in his field, throughout his colleagues, he lost the support of his employers… He climbed so high and he climbed so quick – but the fall was even quicker and the impact with the bottom hurtful. 

His awakening moment was a morning when, getting up to a throbbing headache, he answered a call. A voice, glacial and authoritative, simply enunciated towards him: “You better get your shit together. Go see your parents, they are fucking worried for you. Get your head out of the clouds, Jack, and take some time to think if you still want me in your life or not. Because if you continue to be the jerk you have been the past few months, you will surely show me I do not belong there anymore. Take care.” And the call ended, leaving a confused, naked Irishman reflect on his current situation. He was in a room, a few feminine clothes around the bed, the sound of the cars coming from outside, while empty bottles of alcohol were scattered around the floor of his room. And he finally recognised the voice on the other end of the phone. It was Signe, giving him a clear ultimatum. Once again, he was reliving the darkest moments of his life; he tried to run away from who he was once again. This time, not to fit in the new world opening affront him, but to stand out, to make his voice heard over the other ones. With the bitter feeling of regret in his mouth and insecurities attacking his heart, he broke down into a mess made out of fears, broken illusions and tears. 

He sobbed for a few good hours, cried and pleaded for that pain to end, for him to finally find happiness, at least within himself. He flied back to his parents that seemed like they didn’t age a second since he left, he looked into the eyes of his siblings with apologetic nuances being painted on his expression. He was yet again at a point in his life where he did not know where to turn. He spent his summer lazing around the town, trying to ignore the looks of admiration that he felt he could not deserve anymore. He spent his summer with Signe, learning to step again through the world and smile again, picking himself up and fighting against various vices that came to hunt him at night. He even sought the help of a few doctors that kept telling him the same thing – all they could do was to prescribe him meds to keep his mood swings at bay. Everything else depended solely on him.   
He did not want to run anymore; he was tired of going around in circles, going from the feeling of liberty and flying back to the ground. So this time, he let his fate dictated by his heart. The first thing to do was to dye his hair green, a colour he always felt like would suit him. He started to help his dad again in the work around the house and go to dinners to his siblings’ houses, started to slowly enjoy telling a joke again or writing down ideas. He was terrified of performing again; scared that instead of the soulful, truthful laughs he loved to get, he would instead extort out of his audience mocking grins and insulting remarks; he was afraid a face would somehow recognise him or one of his affairs would show up at his door in the night to let him know how much of a let-down he has been. So he started slowly, firstly having just a small act in the same bar he started his career. The invigorating feeling of wanting to talk to the people again only because he had something to say, to paint smiles on their faces was well-welcomed. This time, though, he reinvented himself as Jack – the green haired Irishman. And behind the blue eyes you could often see a particular maturity that was lacing his every word as well. He had a new air around him, a humble, rather appreciative take on his career and this time he did not hurry into signing any contract. From there and how he moved to Los Angeles is yet another, long story, but now we shall return to the point where, with his natural giddiness, felt that he finally reached truly to someone. 

When he saw the red haired sharing a soulful laugh at his words, he knew somewhere deep in his heart that the reaction was real. He let his eyes wander upon the contours of the other’s face. Mark that he knew was no longer Mark; the green haired knew that anyone matures, but it seemed that aside from the red haired looking older now, he also emanated a different feeling than he did in the past. If Mark that he knew from college was simple, genuine kindness and soft features, this Mark was something of a mystery to him. Then again, Mark’s picture was not lacking mystery before either and he was still the same true friend he seemed to be back in college. But there was something that the comedian could not pinpoint yet about this Mark. 

He remarked brown eyes staring curiously back at him and he shook his head and huffed to himself gently. 

“Sorry, I just… Feel good when people laugh at my jokes.” His voice was velvety, covered in a thin layer of cashmere, holding back so many hushes – he was not yet sure if only that simple laugh that made him feel mushy all over or the alcohol was at fault, but he did not mind the ticklish sensation of feeling comfortable. 

“Well, if that’s not arrogant,” he heard from the red haired and before meeting the gaze of the man, he felt his demons coming back to him with menacing sounds. But then he noticed the amused expression of the red haired and his heart calmed down. “But seriously, this is your job, after all – marking people laugh. So I don’t know why…” He had to stop Mark there with a simple hand gesture and he heard himself chuckle nervously. Only if Mark knew how many thoughts crossed his mind during a show and how he could hear the loud voices of his insecurities screaming at him that he is not good enough and that he would disappoint everyone once again… 

“No… It’s not really that. It’s just…” A short pause marked his words, his fingers playing nervously with each other, while a timid attempt at a grin was sketched onto his lips. “I hear people laughing at my jokes every day, but I have this feeling that not all of the reactions are real, you know? But there’s always a person that really seems to enjoy themselves and that… Makes me happy.” Sincerity lingered in his words and laced every syllable, the reason for him being comfortable with the red haired yet unknown to him. 

“How do you know I’m not laughing just to make you feel good?” Hearing the fiendish tone of the man next to him put an amused, playful smile on his lips and he quickly replied with: 

“Oh! Is that the case?” A slow, mysterious “maybe” came from Mark, but he knew that the red head was natural and honest in his reactions. Blue eyes were flourished with glistens in light, cyan hues and he gingerly adverted his gaze from the one of the man next to him, while silence was yet again reigning for a few seconds their conversation. 

“Trust me, I would know,” he answered enigmatically, not wanting to reveal the meaning behind his words. He was suddenly taken back to a cold autumn night when, for the first time in his college experience, someone showed him kindness and chuckled at his words, despite them having gone through a dark, emotional talk only a few minutes before. He remembered that pure, genuine feeling of comfort and cosiness he firstly encountered when he talked with Mark for the first time; and he could not help but find himself wrapped in the warmth of the other’s gentleness yet again, even after so many years. For a second, his mind went to the girl that left Mark alone in the garden in the middle of the night and wondered if his girlfriend followed him in the end to Los Angeles or she abandoned him in one of his hardest moments of his life. 

“Well, then… I think this is your place, yes?” The green haired let the voice next to him pull him out of his thoughts and with a short, surveying look, he curtly nodded in the direction of the red head and smiled energetically again. 

“Thanks again. I’ll be fine from here.” He left his words trail into silence and he was not sure if he should linger anymore; he removed his seat belt and when he faced the man next to him, he felt compelled to share with him another short, heartfelt embrace – as if Mark was just an old friend of his. And, if he thought better, Mark did have the familiarity of a friend he knew for a long time and that Jack knew would never judge him for anything. “I’ll see you soon. Call me,” he quickly wrapped up, exiting the car and waving one last time before quickly moving towards the building where his apartment was in. He looked shortly over his shoulder, just to take one more glimpse of the red head, and then he entered the luminous building. As he waited for the elevator, he let his alcohol influenced mind go over the memory of the entire night and he decided he would like to see Mark again, even if only for a coffee. He felt a nostalgic feeling coming over him and, as he unlocked his door and entered the apartment, he surprised himself thinking that it was no difference between when he firstly met Mark and now – and how he wanted to spend at least a day in the company of the red haired. 

It was certain the sensation encompassing him in the presence of Mark was that of being home, of being in the right place, of being surrounded by such a familiarity it is almost overwhelming. In the same time, he knew the man was a mystery to him and Jack was not wrong in saying he would have very much liked to find all the puzzle pieces and put them together, in order to know the red haired. He heard a door opening while he flopped on the couch with a sigh and from the hallway he could hear a feminine voice addressing him: 

“Are you home already, darling?”


	5. Twenty-six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is looking for a friend; Mark is looking for love; and there is Amy that might as well give Mark a chance to a new romance...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must start this by apologising for the belated chapter. I feel so awfully guilty for not posting earlier; I don't have any other excuse aside from a busy schedule. I will try to post three chapter this week, so hopefully that will work alright. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the feedback and support. I cannot thank you enough for all the kudos and views and, ultimately, patience. <3 
> 
> P.S.: This chapter is slightly shorter, so apologies for that as well... A lot of apologies in this note, haha.

When you picture the word ‘year’ in your mind, there is a sweet resonance to it that almost allows you to feel like you have time, like you control it and the mad ride you are caught up into slows finally down around you. It’s the feeling of liberation when a new year is nearing in; it’s the passion and motivation of jotting down New Year’s resolutions; it’s the dreams that fire you up as you see the canvas of your future filling in with bright colours and intricate patterns. However, a year is not a lot and despite how much we try to slow the time down, it doesn’t listen to our hushed prayers or desires. Mark felt the same way as he saw yet another year approaching mercilessly. When he stepped into the twenty sixth year of his life, he felt constrained, disappointed, like he entered a battle he already knew he would lose. He felt like he didn’t accomplish anything in his ride through the years; although he did not put a lot of emphasis on the socially desired achievements, like a wife or children, he still felt he was not pushing himself enough.

Mark did not feel incomplete, but rather hollow; he wasn’t missing a part of himself, he just needed to fill the space that was left empty when he moved out of his natal city. He did not feel disposed to love, particularly – especially with his latest adventure through the realms of romance being more than sour for him. That’s when he decided to give a quick call to the nearest pet shelter and arrange a visit with them. He worked every day for animals, ensuring their lives were not endangered and they received all the love and care they deserved. He walked in with no idea about what pet he wanted; he was lead through all the kennels and cages and fish tanks and oh do many eyes that watched him. But he as he stepped carefully and looked around, he felt a pair of eyes on him and turning to his side, he saw a shy Golden Retriever.

There was surely no doubt. The timid pup was his first… Love at first sight, to say so. He quickly learnt her name was Sephora and she has been in the care of the shelter not for a long time – a usual story, a young couple who have their first kid and cannot afford to have a big Golden Retriever running around the house. After a few days with him, he also learnt he could change her name and he slowly started to work through the names. Needless to say, he has been ignored a few times and completely rebelled against another few times. And one day, getting already frustrated with shuffling through names, he simply mumbled a ‘please stop chewing that, chica’. And that was it; the dog looked up patiently, jumping to her feet then and running towards Mark, almost tackling him down.

That’s how Chica appeared in his life. And now, as he is running alongside her, Mark can feel that the hollow space in his heart is filled – unfortunately, not completely. For a while he was just pleased with having his friends and Chica’s companionship; going to shows, playing video games all night at Felix’s while Marzia is hilariously trying to beat him, sharing stories, dreams and thoughts; hiking together, watching movies, going for early runs in the morning and sharing their meals. Both his friends and his dog were amazing and he was more than grateful to have them in his life. But he felt like he was ready for something more, he was ready for a new adventure. He knew one of the secretaries on his floor gave him special attention and was always somehow trying to get him to have a drink with her – her name was Amy. A beautiful, kind, lovely woman – the kind of person he felt he didn’t even deserve (boring and lost as he thought he was).

He could feel the slightly damp and cool air of the morning against his cheeks and, as he took a long breath, he looked above the town at his feet and gently let himself settle down on the ground. Chica quickly joined him in, her tongue sticking out and a look of confusion directed towards the red haired.

“What do you think, Chica?” His question was met by silence from the dog and he nodded shortly, smiling gingerly at the dog. He patted the ground and quickly sprang to his feet again. “That’s what I thought as well. I can’t keep sulking around, can I? I must, at least, make a move. So, let’s run back this killer hill, yeah?” A bark was this time received and they both slowly started to make their way back home.

 

***

 

As the light slowly seeped through his closed lids, the green haired gently turned around the bed, stretching slowly and searching for more cover. He felt the known, feminine perfume surrounding him and searched around still under the power of sleep a known body. But then he heard the voice of the person he was looking for coming from his back.

“Jackass.” The comedian opened his eyes with surprise only to see a smiling face.

“Good morning to you as well, miss,” he jokingly retorted, a lopsided grin contouring on his lips as he propped himself up against the pillows. He accepted his cup of coffee with a short, simple ‘thanks’, then turned on the TV, while Signe climbed into bed with him.

“So… How was last night? You were way too tired and tipsy last night to be able to accurately describe the whole adventure,” the woman curiously asked while her gaze settled on the Irishman and she turned towards him, her attention ready to be captured.

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Oh, come on! You know who I’m actually curious about,” she laughed shortly, slightly punching him in the leg. Jack sipped slowly from his coffee and gave her a chuckle, while rolling his eyes.

“Mark Fischbach. He looked alright, to be honest. He’s still the same big hearted guy, it seems and his friends must be so lucky. I don’t know how the ass of Felix managed to get such a nice person to be his friend, though.” They both shared a laugh, but Signe argued that Felix was just felt like he needed to be an entertainer all the time – but in fact, he was a great guy.

“Yeah, I know he is,” the green haired nodded gently, then a more serious expression possessed his features.

“What is it?”

“Hm?” he hummed, unknowingly – he should have remembered Signe knew him better than anyone, though.

“That look on your face. What bothers you?” Jack shrugged his shoulders and tried to put his feelings into words; he had another sip from his coffee to help him collect his thoughts and then replied, with a soft tone:

“To be fair, I don’t know. I just felt like Mark was not the same as in college – he seemed like he was still a great guy that everyone would go along well with, but… Something in his demeanour was so concealed and so restrained, as if he exercised not to voice his thoughts or let his emotions get the best of him. Or maybe I’m just reading too much into it, who knows?” A short pause marked the end of his words, before the woman next to him put her arm on his shoulder and seriously looked him in the eyes.

“I am seriously concerned about one thing, Jack…” The words lingered in the air and, before the green haired could ask, he heard his best friend questioning him: “Is he still as hot as he was back then?”

“You are unbelievable!” he quickly came back, while giving her a soulful laugh. “Yeah, he is. Even more so now. He’s got his hair died in red and actual facial hair.” His description was well received by his audience of one person and he laughed again, sharing then other stories with Signe.

After a few hours, Signe was gone for work and he was left alone to nurse the rest of his coffee. He quickly went through his text messages and some other notifications, not paying much attention to them as soon as he realised he did not have any missed call from an unknown number. And deep inside his heart he knew he longed so badly for a new friendship. He loved Signe to pieces and she was one of the most amazing things that happened in his life, but sometimes… Only sometimes, not even out of selfishness or greed, you feel like there’s a small space left for yet another friend.

Jack was not particularly close to the people he worked in the same field with and although one would think that the life of an entertainer was something cropped out of glamorous magazines, his surely was not. He took the humble route and never let his soul be traded for lights and gold anymore; he promised he wouldn’t hand in his passion for an hour of rush or his mind for the restless, suspended world of an hour of adrenaline. When he saw Mark again, he just saw that missing puzzle nearing in, closer and closer to him, within his reach, yet so far away. A person he could open to and that could make him like he deserved everything good in life and chased away the demons that told him he needed to punish himself; in return, he needed to give someone a little bit of himself, to feel like someone needed him in their dark days and to know that he could extend a hand to a soul that needed him as much as he needed them. He needed a friend…

 

***

 

As he buttoned up a shirt, he amusedly laughed at Chica that was running around in circles around him, as she was sensing his own excitement. The long run he finished a few hours before cleared his mind and, with a new vision embedded in his mind, he came to a simple but sweet conclusion: waiting for things to go his way would never actually bring him nowhere. He had to step up and climb his own hills, to push out of the way the fallen trees and rocks and get where he wanted to get; not necessarily the top. He would have been very much pleased with a breath-taking view, with enjoying the caress of the sun on his face while he drank into the picture of the valley. If he wanted love, he needed to work with what he had and make the best out of it; so, he told himself, trying wouldn’t hurt him. A few minutes later, he was at the door, saying a last goodbye to Chica and letting her know he won’t be long – hopefully. He locked the door and jumped into his car, starting to drive towards a location known only by him.

He remembered the call made a few hours before and how he could sense a slight note of nervousness into the voice of his interlocutor. He guessed that everything has a beginning and that relationship surely needed a base to be solidified onto; but he was sure he would gain at least a friend out of the whole adventure and he could feel a sense of curiosity fluttering at his heart. He did not want to go ahead himself and name this meeting a ‘date’; instead, he wanted to slowly begin to bring in his life a bit colour, laughter and passion.

And as he lost himself into his thoughts, he realised he got to his destination. Right before him stood a slender silhouette and he waved shortly back towards the greeting of the other. Patiently, he waited for the stranger to jump into his car and, with a gentle, almost mellow smile he was greeted.

“Hi, Mark…”


	6. Twenty-seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he was in college and discovered about the mysterious, entrancing brunet, he would have never thought he would have the chance in the future to be able make him his friend. And now that this is happening, everything is a bit too intense and surreal for the green haired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the next chapter. :) Thank you again for all the support, love and time you dedicate to this work. And yet again, please do not feel shy to leave your comments and ask me about anything. 
> 
> Enjoy. <3 
> 
> P.S.: This chapter is just pure, sweet fluff and feels...

By twenty-seven everyone expects from you to already have stepped into adulthood and walked its sinuous paths, have made your choices and now wait for the future to unfold the results of your decisions. You are expected to have a good, general idea of what you want to do for the next five years or when is the best time to start to save up for your retirement. And all those thoughts made Jack sad; not only through their limitative nature and incompatibility with himself… But also by thinking that people around him that already knew how many children they want would have something to judge him on. But Jack was nowhere near to giving himself completely to someone or something; he loved the calm of solid friendships and the familiarity of known places, but in the same time he craved the adrenaline of exploring other lands and the wonder of a new relationship. And as he giddily answered a mysterious – but expected call – he was ready to plunge into the sea of new emotions and fragrances and textures laid at his feet.

“Hi, Jack speaking?” he mumbled, the Irish accent lacing delicately his vowels and consonants and whispering about long forgotten lullabies and ballads. “Oh, Mark! Yes, I’m good, you?” He listened intently, a gorgeous, childish smile being sketched across his face and his blue eyes glistened warmly with excitement. “Good to hear that,” he breathed through a shaky chuckle and he then gave a hum, eyebrows raising in a sign of curiosity and his smile falling for a second to an open-mouthed expression. However, it rose again, lightning up all the features of the Irishman while he nodded unknowingly. “It would be my pleasure, Mark…” He ran swiftly to pick up a pen and paper and jotted down a few numbers, before the conversation threaded to its end. He left his phone slide into his pocket and, with a precious smile decorating his features, he walked towards his bedroom.

Jack wasn’t ready to settle and he sure was not ready to give himself completely to someone or something – but he was inviting towards something that could perhaps settle him, make him have something to look forward to daily, construct a routine for him. And something told him that Mark would become a _habit_.

A few hours from the call he was waiting outside the building his apartment was in, quickly typing in a message for Signe. A chuckle moved his chest as he read: ‘take a pic with him please’ and a reply quickly was sent with ‘Will do’ – then he heard a car approaching. He waived instinctively towards the man behind the wheel and made his way towards the red head, getting swiftly into the car.

“Hi, Mark,” he greeted with a friendly tone, meeting briefly the red head’s gaze. He put on his seat belt and smiled towards Mark’s reply, before continuing and shifting his sight towards the road. “Where are we going?” His question was met by a calm, earthy stare and a deep voice:

“Well, I know a nice place that does good coffee and breakfast. I thought we could grab something to eat and have a chat.” The tone of the man was laced with gentle excitement and he could see on Mark’s face a look that waited for his approval. He shrugged and nodded with a smile, while murmuring ‘why not’.

“Sounds good to me. What would you like for breakfast?” He felt the purring of the car as Mark started to drive and his gaze persistently stayed on the red haired, as he waited for his curiosity to be satisfied.

“It depends. Today I feel like… waffles. With lots of fruit and cream.” An almost serene, childish grin accompanied the words of the red haired as he stole a glance in the direction of the comedian, equally entertained and interested in the idea.

“That sounds really good.” A hum came at the end of his sentence, before he could loudly declare: “Waffles and chocolate syrup and cream. And cookies, because everything is better with cookies.” He received a pleased, eager ‘yeah’ from the driver and he chuckled under his breath, shaking his head lightly in disbelief; he would have never thought the red haired would have such a playful side. Silence slyly seeped in their conversation, ruling over it, before a soft cough came from the red haired. Jack’s blue irises quickly darted in his direction and met the warm, brown gaze, while he started to register Mark was saying something.

“How did you get into stand-up comedy? I can’t remember you doing anything like that in college.” Jack was completely unsure of how to answer that question so he lightly shrugged with an almost guilty smile painting his lips.

“Ah… I wasn’t the nicest or happiest person in college and I did not have time to pursue something in the field. After I went back to Ireland, however, I took a few months to see what I wanted to do. I despised Hotel Management, to be fair… But I liked working with people, making people laugh.” A short pause came over him and an almost nostalgic grin curled against his lips before he continued in a hushed, low tone: “I just got on the stage and told myself to think that I am with some friends and I am just telling jokes… I loved it so much I came back for more.” His eyes were partly lidded as he seemed to drift slowly into the arms of the sweet memories of the beginning of his career.

A light hum came from the red head and he felt the car coming to a halt, slowly stopping. A warm, big hand came to cover his shoulder and he suddenly snapped out of his reverie, staring deeply into the eyes of the red head.

“I’m glad you did. You are mesmerising on stage,” Mark complimented in an almost whispered tone and Jack wanted oh so badly to escape the emotional moment, wanted to not let that scorching gaze of the other dig even deeper into his soul.

“Right. Waffles?” He smiled uncomfortably and broke the contact with Mark as he took off his seat belt. He received an excited ‘of course’ from the red haired that just did not sound fully genuine and his eyebrows furrowed in a disappointed expression. It was quickly replaced by a standard smiling expression as they got out of the car – but Jack could not shrug off the feeling that he messed up already.

He let himself in the small café and waited a few seconds, before being seated by one of the staff members. He felt his gaze desperately trying to avoid the stare of chocolate of the man seated across him, but, in the end, he could not stare at the ceiling and walls for the rest of the time, could he? So, he bit his lower lip and dared a glance in the direction of the red haired, who simply propped his chin in his palm and seemed to be completely distracted by the menu. He looked quite surreal and the whole situation seemed like it was cropped out of one of his young dreams – when he wanted so badly to find his place where he belonged during college years. He reluctantly remembered how, for a few months, his whole attention was addressed to the mysterious brunet he quickly learnt was called Mark; and he simply wanted to hide under the table and close his eyes and not talk to the guy about it.

“Did you find anything interesting?” A voice echoed against his temples and realised it was his own voice, while a faltering smile tried to prop itself against his lips.

“Oh, yeah, the Tropical paradise one,” Mark gingerly replied with a chuckle escaping his lips. “Sounds like the name of a cheap soap opera.” Jack could not resist a short, heartfelt laugh at the red head’s words.

“All of them have names of cheap soap operas. I’m praying they are more inspired in cooking them than naming them,” he retorted in his whimsical, sarcastic style and he received proudly the unfiltered, joyous laugh from the red haired with a dazzling grin. “Right, ready to order?” After Mark’s approval, Jack felt himself slip back into comfort around the red head and they stepped towards the counter. A few words and jokes away and the duo were seated again, with their ice coffees being served to them.

“Cheers,” he made toward the waitress and she gave a smile, leaving the men to their own devices. When he turned his gaze towards Mark, he was wearing the same kind, gentle smile that irked his curiosity back in college. “So… I didn’t ask you, but what are you doing? As in a job, I mean.”

“I work for a charity dealing with the welfare and protection of animals. I work in their communications department,” the standard reply came from the red head and he hummed thoughtfully.

“You came in here for an internship, right?” he softly reckoned, before sipping from his coffee. Mark imitated him and tasted his freshly prepared drink while nodding.

“Yeah, I moved to L.A. as soon as I finished college and started my apprenticeship with the organisation I’m currently working for.” Jack wanted to add that he was sure that Mark would obviously choose a career in which he could give something to the world and showcase his generous, kind self. Before he could do that, though, an unknown emotion caught the expression of the red head and he heard the deep voice susurrating in a low, almost nervous tone: “I bet it’s not as glamorous as your career.” By the time he guessed the mysterious emotion dominating Mark was lack of confidence he found himself already speaking:

“Despite anything that you would think, my career is not so enthralling. I mean… It could be, but I’ve walked that path triumphantly before and it doesn’t feel right for me.” Being able to pour his soul and just serve it on a silver platter to Mark was almost an incomprehensible emotion for him; the only person that knew him intimately was Signe – and between them stayed years of friendship that solidified their confidence and trust in each other. But with Mark… With Mark was only the easiness and comfort of a soul that he knew was made from gold; it was the stable presence of a kind stare and the unwavering, gentle smile painted on the lips of the man that made him bare himself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” came the soothing tone of Mark’s voice and he quickly realised he looked like he was reluctant to talk to him about it. It wasn’t far from truth and he hardly needed to remember or be remembered about the dark periods of his life.

“Don’t worry, I’m not,” he masked it swiftly, flashing a smile in the direction of the red haired and as he did so, he noticed the waitress bringing their waffles. Their conversation stalled for a few good minutes while they just shared a few jokes about their food and allowed each other to have a taste of both the dishes.

“I will have blue teeth,” Jack laughed innocently, looking down at his blue chocolate sauce and the assorted berries that were adorning the plate in quite a mess now.

“It doesn’t matter, you’ll still be charming.” The sentence was blurted out and Jack needed to a few second, before he could brush it off with a short laugh – although he could not erase the tension between them. When he looked across the table Mark’s tanned complexion clearly was adorned with a few brushes of red colour atop of his cheeks and ears. _‘That’s adorable,’_ he hushed in his mind, secretly, finishing his meal and having a few sips from his coffee. He showed his teeth towards the red haired and talked through them:

“Blue teeth?” The sounds came muffled and he must have looked ridiculous, because he extracted a genuine, relaxed laugh from Mark. He received his reply in the forms of a shake of the head and he smiled amusedly towards the man across the table.

“No blue teeth,” the voice reassured him and he mumbled a ‘good’ towards the man, while finishing his drink. He then looked around the place and his eyes settled on the red haired.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, nothing important. Should we go?” He shrugged as an answer to the question and stood up in the same time as the other, thanking the waitress and making their way towards the exit. The heat of the city hit them both and Jack suddenly wanted to return to the chilly haven the café was.

“Oh, man, I’m melting…,” he made with a whiny tone, hearing a chuckle from the man beside him.

“Yeah, the weather is vile in here. I thought you knew that already.” He gave a huff to the words of the other man and the stood in silence for a few seconds, before Mark turned around to face him with an inviting, alluring smile. “Do you want some ice cream?” He didn’t need to ponder the idea too much and soon he was waiting for his ice cream to be served by an old man in a truck. After they both got their chilly treat, they started to walk with no direction in their mind and share a few thoughts about the weather, their meal, where Mark lived and getting into a heated discussion about video games. In the end, they found themselves seated on a bench in a park, under the shadow of a tall tree, while conversing about favourite movies.

“That’s impossible,” Jack exclaimed, his face contortioned in a surprised expression. “Next thing we do together is to watch WALL-E, because it’s a blasphemy not to have watched it.” Laughter greeted his words and Mark settled his warm gaze on him and with a nod, he replied:

“Alright, alright. We are going to watch it. But you must come hiking with me and Chica one morning, then. Deal?” A hand was extended towards him and he grabbed the big, encasing palm in a strong shake, the fingers of the red haired lingering with a sweet pressure upon his own indexes. He quickly retreated his hand and tried to brush off the feeling of nervousness playing at the strings of his heart. Then he made an ‘oh!’ sound and quickly retrieved his phone.

“I promised Signe I would take a picture with you,” Jack demanded amusedly, urging Mark to get closer to him and pose for his perfect portrait. A strong arm draped around his shoulders and a warm palm rested against his arm while Mark titled innocently his head and smiled kindly into the camera. Slightly distracted, he looked up and took a few pictures, quickly sending them to Signe as well. When he looked up, Mark was as close as before, but he felt the welcoming warmth of his arm disappearing. “Well, another productive thing I’ve done today.” Mark shared a soulful chuckle with him and made a few gestures, brushing aside his statement.

“Sundays are not supposed to be productive, you crazy Irishman.” Before Jack could reply with one of his biting, sarcastic lines, his phone rang and he quickly excused himself. He almost had a heart attack when he heard Signe yelling on the other side.

“Please tell me you’re going to bring the sweetheart home! I want a piece of that fucking delicious smile.” He almost could not trap the wild laugh that threatened to escape into the warm air and with a glance thrown over his shoulder, he replied on a hushed tone:

“Stop gushing over him, please. I might or I might not bring him home… Who knows?’ He was wearing a mischievous grin and after a few whines and pleads from his best friend, he ended the conversation in the same uncertain note, leaving the woman forever wondering if she would get to see Mark or not.

“Sorry for that. She already is asking me to bring you home.” He laughed quietly and joined Mark on the bench again, the distance between them being reinstalled.

“Are you living with Signe?” Jack could sense the flaming curiosity of the red haired and he nodded simply, confirming that he was indeed living in the same apartment as her – and most of the times in the same bed; but he felt that detail was unnecessary. When his eyes lifted to meet the warm, brown gaze, he could see a note of something unknown in it; a fiery display of glistens that were muted away by tacit, unknown disappointment. _‘Disappointment?’_ , he whispered to himself, wondering what did he do to annoy Mark. He didn’t want to ask further and, with a smile, he stood up and gently asked:

“Should we get back to the car?”

“Yes, sure,” Mark replied, smiling kindly, but still holding something of the feeling that possessed him earlier. He pushed it at the back of his mind and started another discussion about their schedules and when they could plan a movie night and a hiking morning. Slowly, he noticed how Mark slipped back into his genuine, happy self, so Jack forgot about the unsettling feeling he had when he looked into his eyes.

By the time they finished planning their future meetings, Jack was almost home, drove again by Mark and the Irishman wished he could prolong the journey. He felt comfortable in Mark’s company, he felt like he had known the man for a life time, but in the same never having known anything about him. And he was pleased by how many things they had in common; he wanted… He _needed_ Mark to like him and want to be his friend, because he surely wanted to be Mark’s. As the car to a halt so did his wishful thoughts and he took off his seat belt, turning slightly towards the red head.

“Here we are, safely home,” Mark made with his velvety voice, full of so many inflections and soothing curves, like a passionate, intimate dance of tango.

“Thank you for the ride,” he started with nervousness playing upon his syllables. “I had a great time today. Call me or text me, yeah? And I’ll see you soon for the movie.” He smiled gingerly to the red haired and suddenly he felt himself enclosed in a strong, firm and warm embrace. He relaxed his body against the red head’s hug and lifted his arms to circle around the other’s back. He felt Mark’s breath fanning over his neck and his stubble tickled his ear slightly, but it was pleasant and warm and gentle… And all he wanted was to be cradled in the hands of that god that seemed to make him forget about all his worries and sadness and just want to bask in the feeling of comfort and friendship. When he lost the contact with the other his face was slightly flushed and he felt his voice stuck. Gladly, Mark was the one doing the talking.

“I’ll see you soon, take care of you.” And with that, Jack offered a last smile and got out of the car. Surprisingly, even the warm breeze outside seemed less hot than the encompassing feeling of having Mark’s arms around him. And everything seemed so surreal that it made him lightheaded… He brushed his palms against his yet rosy cheeks and inhaled shakily, stepping in the direction of his apartment – not being sure if he was walking in a straight line or not. “Great, I got flustered by a friendly hug…”, he whispered to himself and laughed at his own reactions. This friendship was bound to be interesting, in the least…


End file.
